Agreement on
My Behavior When You
Come Home From Work
I, your husband, agree to ask you how your day was when you come home from work. I also promise to not just “act interested” in what you have to say but to “be interested” in what you have to say.
SIGNING STATEMENT
While I will try my best to follow the guidelines of this agreement no matter how Dr. Phil–ish they may sound, you should be made aware that I still don’t understand why “acting interested” is considered a necessary component of “being interested.” Just because I sometimes don’t look up from my computer when you’re talking to me doesn’t mean I’m not interested in whatever it is you’re saying. I am. I am a lot. With that said, your timing is often terrible, like when I’m instant-messaging with J-Dawg, the co-manager of my fantasy-baseball team. We’re in first place this season, so it’s important we keep in constant communication, in case we need to make any changes to our club. So, yeah, I’ll do the best I can, but if Bronson Arroyo strains his oblique muscle and goes on the 15-day DL, be prepared to save whatever it is you need to tell me until after J-Dawg and I have finished our business.
Agreement on
My Parental Bedtime
Responsibilities
I, your husband, agree to read stories to our children before bedtime every night, and I promise never to let them watch me play “Half-Life 2” on the Xbox instead.
SIGNING STATEMENT
For the record, “Half-Life 2” has a very strong narrative that’s full of life lessons. Yes, there are blood-soaked zombies and giant killer ants, but I don’t think you give our kids enough credit when it comes to them being able to separate fantasy from reality. And, for the record, Andy’s night terrors are totally unrelated to “Half-Life 2.” The blood-soaked zombies and giant killer ants in his dreams are totally different. Totally.
Agreement on
My Household-Chore
Responsibilities
I, your husband, consent to wash the dishes every night and to take the garbage out by 8:00 a.m. every Thursday morning. I will not complain about either of these chores, nor will I fake an injury in an effort to get out of doing them.
SIGNING STATEMENT
You still don’t believe I pulled my back out when you made me vacuum that time you were sick. It’s not my fault the vacuum hose was too short for me and the constant bending over wrenched my back. Besides, vacuuming is your job. In theory, I didn’t have to do it at all, but you had shingles or something—I forget what exactly—so I stepped up to the plate and vacuumed. Did I ask you to take out the garbage that time I had a sty? No, I did not.
Agreement on
My Vacation Behavior
I, your husband, agree to be emotionally invested in our vacation, the first one we’ve been on without kids in eight years. I will hold your hand during sunset walks on the beach and I will ask questions about your life and be attuned to your feelings. In addition, should there be a television in view while we dine at a restaurant, I will not be distracted by it. Instead, I will focus all of my attention on you, because SportsCenter is not as important as our relationship.
SIGNING STATEMENT
While I agree to hold your hand on the beach, it should be known that I am only doing it because you like it. I’m not big on hand holding, or, for that matter, any other public displays of affection—and you know this. So I should get big points for holding your hand. Big points. And as for not watching television while we’re eating at a restaurant, I will do the best I can, but should an important announcement come on, like, say, about a baseball trade or injury, I will not only be allowed to look at the television but also to call J-Dawg so we can discuss lineup options for our club.
Agreement on
My Finding Employment
I, your unemployed husband, agree to make a genuine effort to find a job. I will wake up before 9 every morning and check both the newspaper and Craig’s List for employment opportunities.
SIGNING STATEMENT
It’s unrealistic to expect me to get up before 9, but, sure, let’s give it a shot. I mean, I usually don’t fall asleep until 3 a.m., since the guy I play Halo with online lives in Indonesia. I’ll get less sleep than I need and probably won’t be as productive, but that’s what you want, so that’s what I’ll do. And not for nothing, but should I find awesome Phish bootlegs while looking for jobs on Craig’s List, it’s going to be pretty near impossible for me not to buy them.
Agreement on
Sexual Relations
I, your husband, agree to cuddle with you after sex for a period of time no shorter than 10 minutes. I shall also not shout out any other name but yours while we’re in the throes of sex.
SIGNING STATEMENT
I’ve only shouted out J-Dawg’s name once during sex. OK, twice, but the second time I was talking to him on the phone about the return of Roger Clemens. Besides, I cuddled with you for 17 minutes afterward; therefore, I don’t think it warrants mention in the agreement. But whatever: you want me to officially “agree” to this, so here I am “agreeing.” More points for me.